Wartime Knit Kit

The 1940s is one of my favourite eras for clothing because I love the silhouette, and the mix of minimalist, military-inspired tailoring with soft draping fabrics – the wool suiting, the knits. It’s a pretty rare thing to find original 40s knits in Australia, however. Happily, the look of the era comes in and out of fashion, so it is relatively easy to find contemporary clothing with the same or similar silhouettes.

This short knit jacket is one such example showing a Forties influence: the collar and lapels, the puffed sleeves and the pockets are all telltale details. I really love the short sleeves too – they’re not often seen in modern jackets. Below are two original jackets from the era that show the details that inspired mine.

Tailored double-jersey mock rib jacket features wide reveres and a darted sleeve head, by John SmedleyThis jacket is cut along military lines, with metal-buttoned patch pockets and a high neckline; by John SmedleyOf course the Second World War had a huge influence on the types of clothing worn in the Forties, especially with hand-knitted garments, tailoring, and military styling. The War introduced a ‘previously unknown democratisation into fashion. Notions of class-based and elitist styles were overturned as civilians and the armed services dressed alike.’ [Vintage Fashion Knitwear, by Marnie Fogg, Lark Books, 2012)

The other key looks of the decade in knitted garments were knitted jackets, the Sweater Girl look, shoulder pads, American leisurewear, draped jersey and fitted styles.

By the end of the decade, the military influence and tailoring becomes more relaxed, shown below in an outfit I covet: a jersey shirt with an exaggerated collar and plunging, broad placket worn tied (with an awesome giant shoelace!) at the waist over a pleated black skirt, both by Carolyn Schnurer. It’s such an elegant look that would not seem out of place on today’s streets.

Photo: August 2016

Jersey shirt and pleated skirt by Carolyn Schnurer, 1949.

Vintage Attachments

I love that it is still possible to find genuine vintage items in charity thrift stores. These items are getting more and more scarce, it’s true, but for the dedicated treasure-hunter, there are delightful discoveries every now and then.

Screw-back earrings are accessories that seem so quaintly old-fashioned. Actually, they have not been around that long: they were only invented in 1894, while the clip earring appeared forty years later in 1934; the latter subsequently became the favoured option for women with unpierced ears.

Past experience with a pair of ceramic earrings had taught me that screw-backs were painful, but when I found these 1940s or 50s earrings in a charity store, I couldn’t resist purchasing them. They were so pretty, made of lightweight seed beads forming a knot. I paid only a few dollars for them, and happily, they turned out to be quite comfortable to wear.

The secret to wearing screw-backs is in tightening them just enough to bear the weight of the materials. In my experience, if the earrings are heavy they are going to hurt your ears after a while no matter how they are attached. (If you can’t try them on, weigh them in your hand.)

I wasn’t put off by the tarnished base metal either (earring backs can be cleaned easily with some methylated spirits), and it is the age of the earrings that delights me. I love knowing that vintage items have stories attached to them – even if I don’t know the stories themselves.

Photo: April 2016

At Long Last, Summer

Summer is here at long last – hurrah! Months of gloriously languid days lie ahead, and months of skimpy outfits too. How wonderful it is to go outside with bare arms and legs, without carrying a heavy coat and hat and scarf and gloves … Although, living in Melbourne, one takes a risk going out without an umbrella!

One of my favourite colour combinations for summer is white and green like a striped peppermint sweet. But I also adore Kelly green. I particularly love this 1970s dress because it has a 1930s look: two of my favourite fashion eras combined.

It is made from 100% cotton, which is a rare find for this era, at least in thrift stores in this country. I came across it a couple of summers ago in a St Vincent de Paul Society op shop, and bought it for about $15, which was an amazing bargain. The label is ‘Acorn’, which is completely unfamiliar. I love that the extravagant lapels and tie belt are in contrasting stripes to the main polka dot pattern. Admittedly the dress is a size too large, but as it is a wrap that does not signify too much.

I like it worn with this vintage 30s, slightly battered straw hat. The patent leather kitten-heeled slingbacks, virtually new, are by Aussie label Top End, and also came from an op shop.

Such swishy skirts and joyful pattern put me exactly in the mood for sipping cocktails on a sunny rooftop somewhere – one of the other joys of summer.

~

P.S. Apologies for my long absence – I was on a staycation for all of November, but I was far too disinclined to turn my computer on at all!

Photos: April 2016

Hold Onto Your Hats

It’s coming up to Spring Racing Season! For hat-lovers such as myself, this season can be a real joy, seeing women everywhere accessorising their heads, a sadly unusual practice these days.

The only real pity is that so many of them are common and cheap fascinators, excuses for real hats: bits of sinnamay with a fake gerbera or hibiscus attached willy-nilly, quills bobbing about like so many antenna, netting, and possibly sequins or glitter thrown in for good measure. Don’t overdo it like that! A little goes a long way.

Definition of a Fascinator

You may be wondering, what is the difference between a hat and a fascinator?

‘A fascinator hat is a small ornamental headpiece that fits on the head using an Alice-band-type base or headband or even a small comb. It is always lightweight and usually features feathers, beads or flowers. [V is for Vintage]

These pink straw headpieces are from 2013, and it was those dashing Schiaparelli pink stripes that caught my eye when I passed them in a department store. But are these fascinators? While they are attached to the head with Alice bands, in my mind their sculptural quality helps steer them away from bogan territory.

Potentially only the 1862 headdress on the left fits the description of a Victorian fascinator.This certainly fits the description of a Victorian fascinator: a lace shawl attached to the head

True Origin of the Fascinator

The original fascinator refers to an item worn in the last decades of the 19th century: ‘a lace or crocheted head shawl secured to the crown or hairline that drapes down over the back of the head as far – or even farther – than the shoulders. These fascinators added a bit of seductive mystery to decorous Victorian fashion.

'By the 1930s, the term applied to a lacy hood – rather like a fussy balaclava – and soon after the term disappeared from use.’ [Encyclopædia Britannica]

Isn’t that fascinating? I must say though, a shawl attached to my head is even more unappealing to me than today’s ubiquitous sinnamay creations. I think I’ll just stick to my vintage hats!

A black lace 1930s fascinatorCrocheted fascinator from 1944 (you too can knit one if you click the image link).

The Politics of Accessories and Elegance

Time was that to be truly fashionable, a lady’s accessories all had to match, and the materials they were made from had to be appropriate for the occasion and time of day. Happily, we no longer live in such restrictive times, and today looking matchy-matchy is a horrible insult, a death knell to any pretentions to style.

Looking backwards to the hey-dey of matchy-matchiness, the 1940s and 50s, I can do no better than to quote Genevieve Anotine Dariaux, French style guru, once derectrice at Nina Ricci, and author of the famous book A Guide to Elegance, first published in 1964:

‘The accessories worn with an outfit – gloves, hat, shoes, and handbag – are among the most important elements of an elegant appearance. A modest dress or suit can triple its face value when it is worn with an elegant hat, bag, gloves, and shoes, while a designer’s original can lose much of its prestige if its accessories have been carelessly selected.’

Quite the opposite is true today, when every fashionista rich or poor mixes new with vintage, high with low, with seemingly at times a particular delight in clashing as much as possible.

Elegant woman at Longchamp, Anonymous, 1947 (from ‘Parisiennes’, Flammarion 2007)

Seasonal Sets

Dariaux continues to elaborate on accessories, stating it is indispensable to own a complete set of accessories in black, and if possible, also brown plus beige shoes and a beige straw bag for summer. Ideally one would have every set suitable for sport, and the other dressy. Dariaux is filled with dismay when she sees a woman carrying an alligator handbag with a dressy ensemble, simply because she wishes to get good wear out of such an expensive item. (Has Dariaux not heard of the cost per wear equation?) ‘Alligator is strictly for sports or travel, shoes as well as bags, and this respected reptile should be permitted to retire every evening at 5pm.’

bright coloured shoes should only be worn under electric lights with a long or short evening dress

She has similar damning words for bright coloured shoes, which ‘should only be worn under electric lights with a long or short evening dress’.

All White is Not Alright

White shoes should never be seen on a city street – except for a tropical city, and even then only in summer, and only with a white dress. White handbags are impermissible except for the beach and summer resorts, but provincial in the city, even at the height of summer. Today fashion editors love to advocate white for winter, and I love it. Well truthfully, I love white anytime.

White handbags are impermissible except for the beach and summer resorts …

Gloves

But what does Dariaux say of gloves? They are best in neutral shades, and the most elegant of all are glacé kid. Suede and antelope are her second choices. Surprisingly, she gives good-quality thicker nylon gloves the thumbs-up.

She also believes gloves ought to be devoid of trimming, which I don’t at all agree with, while very long black gloves are the most elegant to wear with evening gowns. I own dozens of pairs in many colours and materials, even own a pair or two of crocheted lace and transparent nylon, which are both particularly despicable to Dariaux. Stylishly trimmed gloves I think are fun, and even an elegant woman can have fun sometimes!

The entrance to the Paris Ritz on place Vendôme, Anonymous, c. 1948 (from ‘Parisiennes’, Flammarion 2007)

The Politics of Fashion and Elegance

Today of course most of us don’t wear any of our accessories in our day-to-day lives because they are ‘proper’ or traditional, but simply because we enjoy them. And of course the definition of elegance has changed slightly from Dariaux’s day when it was a stifling; it still means timeless chic in most lexicons, but there is a little more leeway for wit and daring, especially when it is employed with restraint.

In 1958, Claire McCardell, an American designer of the same era as Genevieve Dariaux, says:

‘Accessories are the signatures of your special tastes, clues to the type of woman you like being. Each is an idea in itself and you will quickly learn that you can’t wear too many ideas at the same time.’

This is permission to experiment a little more generous than that of Dariaux. The latter’s restrictive rules seem ludicrous to modern ears, but it wasn’t she who laid the law down: those fashion bills were passed with Christian Dior’s New Look in 1947, and the entire world imposed them on women who held any pretension to elegance, glamour – and worse than that: womanliness.

Unpublished variant of a cover image for American Vogue, bu Erwen Blumenfeld, 1950

Marnie Fogg, editor of Fashion: The Whole Story (Thames and Hudson, 2013) in the section ‘Daytime Decorum’ explains in a nutshell:

‘It was a perfect storm of events that resulted in the housewife of the 1950s becoming deified. Targeted by government policies, the fashion industry and advertisers, both she and her home were buffed, groomed and venerated. Liberated from the privations of wartime rationing, her clothing celebrated femininity with strict fashion discipline. A façade of perfection had to be upheld at all costs; to leave the house without a hat was little short of insurrection.’

Alligator is correctly worn for travel or sport, according to Genevieve Dariaux. Wenda Rogerson, by Norman Parkinson, Vogue 1951Women’s liberation stalled after World War II, when American politicians advocated the return of women to their former role of homemakers so that homecoming servicemen would have jobs to return to. Instead, it was a woman’s job to be the perfect housewife. The social, moral and economic stability of the United States was entirely ‘dependent on men returning to their role as head of the household. Fashion played a significant role in this process by restoring the notion of traditional feminine clothing and making the business of dressing complex, with style diktats for every social and domestic function.’ [Ibid] It would take the next generation to change the world in the 1960s, when the fashion industry was turned on its head.

Matching v. Monochromatic

While I feel quite passé if my accessories match too well, I do think it fun to wear an entirely monochromatic outfit, especially all white. Black is my only exception for I find it dreary if it is not leavened with at least one other neutral. Kim Kardashian as we all know is very fond of wearing all beige, but I think it’s just because she likes that it makes her look naked.

Monochromatic outfits can be quite startling and eye-catching when one has become accustomed to the current popular trend for mismatching, which, with the encouragement of the fashion industry, many positively gorge on and glory in. Clash your prints! Mix and match! These are the clarion cries of this movement, and so often it is not done sympathetically. Wearing all one colour can in fact be soothing to the eye for just that reason.

I do not dispute that there were beautiful fashions in the post-war era, but today we have many more options than such rigorous and stifling rules and regulations. We can have fun, experiment – matchy-matchy or not according to personal preference – for even if we do commit some grave sartorial error we can take heart: the Fashion Police still can’t put us in jail for insurrection.

Photos: April 2016